


Moomin's Spring Tune

by leafbaby



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: F/F, Lovesong, M/M, Shameless ocs, are you even allowed to put links on ao3, i wrote a whole goddamn song for this fic and you better appreciate it, learning the guitar, lesbian wisdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 08:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19195333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafbaby/pseuds/leafbaby
Summary: Moomin learns to play the guitar and creates his very own spring tune for Snufkin.





	Moomin's Spring Tune

**Author's Note:**

> A few things to note about this work:
> 
> \- Sonny is my Moomin OC and yes goddamn they and Too-Ticky are in love it's 2019 no one cares about canon/oc anymore or I'll fight them  
> \- This fic does include a song that I wrote and recorded myself and I'll put the link in the box down the bottom! 
> 
> uhhh basically that's it enjoy im going to go roll into the ocean

Winter. Absolutely miserable winter. 

Moomin was tired of winter. It seemed every year now he was unable to sleep all the way through. Was it just a part of growing up? Perhaps there was something wrong with his nature? Whatever the reason, he hated winter and all it’s cold, lonely, endless nights. 

He trudged through the thick snow, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak on his way down to the bathing house. It had become almost a tradition now, to go and complain to Too-Ticky until he felt better enough to give hibernation another try. Today she was on the ice, sitting on a small stool. She was using her toes to hold her fishing rod steady while she drew in a book with a stick of charcoal. As Moomin called her name, she turned and gave him a cheery wave. “Couldn’t sleep again this year?”

“No, there’s something wrong with me.” Moomin carefully walked across the icy sand, shuffling along the ice to reach Too-Ticky’s fishing hole. “It was a dream this time, but I can’t remember it.”

“No bother. Hold the line for me, would you?” Too-Ticky passed the fishing pole across to Moomin using her articulated toes, returning to her sketching. “Would you like to talk about it, or would you like to enjoy the scenery with me?”

“Distraction would be nice, actually,” Moomin replied, adjusting the tension of the fishing line. “What are you drawing?”

Too-Ticky turned her page towards Moomin, showing her plans to construct The Lady of The Cold’s horse this year. “Been learning how to draw better. I love being able to make things, but a little forethought never hurt anyone.” 

“I’m rubbish at drawing,” Moomin sighed, shoulders drooping. 

“Not any worse than I was when I started,” Too-Ticky offered the book, taking the fishing pole back into her paws. “Have a flick through, see what you think.”

Moomin flipped through pages and pages of charcoal sketches, shapes of invisible shrew mice and the sun rising over the sea, detailed patterns of flowers and leaves. They got rougher and more awkward in their execution the further to the front he went, until he was met with a two page spread at the very beginning, one side a very rough sketch of what seemed to be a bespeckled moomin wearing a scarf, and the other side a much more lifelike charcoal rendering of Too-Ticky herself. “Well, that self-portrait’s really good.”

“No, I didn’t make that one. I met this moomin, see.” Too-Ticky pointed to the moomin drawing. “Their name is Sonny, they gave me the book and some pointers. I do hope I get to see them again, once the winter’s over. Told ‘em I’d do lots, and make them proud.”  
“That’s nice…” Moomin sighed, somehow feeling even more alone listening to Too-Ticky. He turned towards the horizon, where the sun was barely peeking out. “Don’t you get lonely staying up all winter?”

“No, no. Even when the shrew-mice are sleeping, I don’t feel alone. I keep people in my heart. Like with the drawings. Sonny is… someone I want to impress. So I draw, and I think of when spring comes and our paths will cross and they’ll say, “Ooh, Miss Ticky you’ve done a splendid job!” And I’ll say, “Well, it's because of all you taught me, Miss Sonny and…” Too-Ticky trailed off, realising her mouth was rambling unsupervised. “Well, I’m sure you get the idea. Why don’t you try something to impress that Snufkin fella?”

“Snufkin…” Moomin drifted in thought. Too-Ticky made a lot of sense. He did want to impress him, to see Snufkin's smile - a full smile, the one he saved just for very special occasions. "He's not easily impressed, you know."

"Well, he comes and plays you a song every spring, why don't you play him one?" 

"I can't play any instruments, Too-Ticky. I can't play Snufkin a song."

"Not with that attitude. Come along." Too-Ticky pulled her line from the water, gathering her things and heading back to the bathing house. 

Moomin followed her dutifully, closing the door behind him and taking off his blanket-cloak. The stove was heating the small room, making Moomin feelmuch warmer than he had all day. He watched as Too-Ticky went into the closet, shuffling through all kinds of things before pulling out an old guitar. She sat down with it on her lap and strummed, the most awful noise coming out of the old instrument. 

"Are you sure you know how to play?" Moomin clamped his paws over his ears. 

"Yes, you wee git, just needs a tune." Too-Ticky worked her way from the lowest string to the highest, adjusting the little knobs at the end until they were all just so. She gave the guitar another strum, and then another, then plucked out a scale. She paused to stretch her fingers out, laying them across the strings. "There. Got any requests?"

"Uh…" Moomin paused to think. Most of the songs he knew of were Snufkin's, and Snufkin didn't always give them words, let alone names. "Do you know All Small Beasts Should Have Bows In Their Tails?"

"Hum it for me."

Moomin sang the song from memory, tapping his foot against the wooden floor to keep time as he'd watched Snufkin do countless times before. Too-Ticky seemed to pick up the tune, forming chords she hoped would match with her fingers. She gestured to Moomin to keep singing once he reached the end, this time playing her chords along with him. It certainly wasn’t as precise as Snufkin was with his harmonica, but she seemed to have picked up the song quite well. Moomin was actually rather impressed. 

Once they finished, Moomin gave Too-Ticky a little round of applause. “That was very good! You just… figured it out on the spot?”

“Yeah. Not hard, once you train your ears right.” Too-Ticky held the guitar out to Moomin. “Wanna give it a try?”

“Um… Okay…” Moomin took the instrument in hand, sitting down to rest it on his lap. “What do I..?”

Too-Ticky moved behind him, adjusting Moomin’s paw so his fingertips rested on certain strings. “Now, press down and give it a strum. Go on.”

A little uncertain, Moomin squeezed down as hard as he could, running his thumb across the strings to produce his very first chord.

“Congrats! You can play the guitar!” Too-Ticky smiled proudly. “That ones a C chord, let me teach you some more…”

\--

Winter was not as bad as Moomin had expected. With his newfound hobby, he didn’t mind it when he woke up in the morning. His days alternated between spending time with Too-Ticky, learning new things down at the bathing house and time back in his room where he would play and play until his paws ached. He found a recipe for a salve in Grandma’s Book of Recipes that made his hands burn but drew out the fatigue, and he dutifully slathered it on every night before he went to sleep. 

As the months went by he got better and better under Too-Ticky’s tutelage. He could play all kinds of things now, though his fingers were a little short to play some chords. Once the world woke up in spring he would start a quest to find his own guitar, something smaller and easier for him to play than Too-Ticky’s. But for now, he had another mission.

As well as learning to play guitar, he also learned to write. He stayed up in the darkest parts of the night, lost in fantasy as he gazed at the dark, unending night sky. He wondered if Snufkin was looking at the stars too. He had read books about navigators who found their way across unending seas using nothing but the stars to find their way. Could Snufkin read the stars back to Moominvalley? He sat at the window, tapping a rhythm out on the windowsill. 

“... Leading you to my arms… You’ve come so far…” 

Inspiration struck, and Moomin scrambled down to Moominpappa’s study, grabbing paper and a pen, bringing it back up to his room where he settled on the floor with his guitar. He tapped out his rhythm, hummed his tune, played chords and wrote words wildly, patching together his very own song.

He worked on it for days, too shy just yet to show Too-Ticky. No, to do this properly it had to be like Snufkin’s spring tune. A song to welcome the season, which Snufkin always showed to Moomin first. This song was for Snufkin, so Snufkin should be the first to hear it. 

Days turned into weeks of Moomin practicing his new song, the only noise in the otherwise silent valley. But as all things do, winter began to change into spring - the sun came out for longer and longer each day, the snow began to melt, and Too-Ticky made her departure from the valley.

“You can keep the guitar for now, Moomintroll. At least ‘til you find one that’s better for you.” Too-Ticky packed her things into her bag, including a book absolutely filled with charcoal sketches. “I’ll keep my eye out for one too, I’ll be passing through a couple towns on my way to see my sister.”

“Think you’ll meet that artist again?” Moomin asked.

“I dearly hope so.” Too-Ticky smiled softly. “Good luck with your song though. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

\--

Finally, spring. It had been a long, cold wait for Moomin, but finally, spring. Spring meant Snufkin, and he could finally show off his song. He was out by the bridge even before Mamma and Pappa had gotten out of bed, practicing his chords as he watched chunks of melting ice slip down the stream. 

And then he heard it. Echoing through the trees was the sound of a harmonica, playing a tune Moomin had never heard before. This one was different - there was expectation, longing, all covered by excitement for the year ahead. Moomin got to his feet, resting his guitar against the rail of the bridge as he stared down the path. 

Snufkin.

Over winter his hair had grown, his coat bore a few more scrapes and his hat was covered in crocuses and white hyacinth, but this was Snufkin. His dear, dear Snufkin. Moomin could barely contain himself to wait on the bridge as Snufkin approached, playing his tune freely to the valley. When he looked up, he jumped at the sight of Moomin already awake. 

“Moomintroll! I didn’t expect to see you up so early, spring isn’t meant to start until tomorrow.”

“Well, I… had a busy winter. It’s good to see you again, Snufkin. I really like your new song.” 

“Busy? I can see that.” Snufkin pointed at the guitar. “Is that yours?”

“Too-Ticky’s, technically. But she um… She taught me how to play.” Moomin grasped his tail nervously, stroking the tuft at the end. “I… I wrote a song. Would you like to hear it?”

Snufkin nodded, sitting down on the bridge. “Please, I’d love to.”

Moomin took a deep, slow breath, feeling the early spring chill in his lungs. He took his guitar from it’s resting place, sitting down on the old bridge beside Snufkin. He was sure his face was on fire at this point, feeling those dark eyes watching him expectantly. How did Snufkin so freely perform in front of others? “Sorry I’m… I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay, take your time.”

Another deep breath, and he began to play, counting out the rhythm to get his strumming right, playing through the chord pattern before he closed his eyes and began to sing.

“Coming home, coming home to you,  
I don’t know, I don’t know where you are,  
But I know the stars

They shine bright, they shine bright for you,  
Leading you, leading you to my arms,  
You’ve come so far

Let’s just hold hands in the sunlight  
Watch as spring’s blooming around us  
I want nothing more than to see you here in my arms

I wish spring would last us forever  
So that we could sit here together  
On this bridge here for two,  
Look at this wonderful view,  
All that I want to do,  
Is have springtime with you.”

Moomin looked across to Snufkin for his reaction, relaxing when he found a wide smile. “That was quite beautiful, Moomintroll. You wrote that?”

“All of it,” Moomin nodded. “I um… I wrote it for you, you know.”

“Oh!” Snufkin’s eyes went wide, his gaze quickly shifting down from Moomin’s face to his own paws in his lap. "I… guess you missed me a lot, huh?"

"More than you know." Moomin rested his snout against the guitar, watching the stream running beneath them. 

Silence settled between them, the only noise around being birdsong and running water. Moomin tried to stay calm but he wasn’t encouraged by Snufkin’s reaction. He’d never said such feelings aloud to him before, perhaps this whole thing was foolish and he’d be better off jumping into the river and letting the current take him out to sea for good. 

And then he felt a paw against his own.

He looked over to Snufkin, whose red face was turned away as he gently held Moomin’s paw. “We could… do all that, you know. Like in your song. Hold hands in the sunlight…”

“Oh! Why don’t we um… We could go for a walk together and see what’s new this year?”

“I think I’d like that a lot.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can listen to Springtime with You HERE https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pb9tYpWnBLU
> 
> I'm pretty sure that's not an active link but WHATEVER
> 
> Find me on tumblr @leafo-supreme


End file.
